Page 80 of The Lake Escape
Grace grimaces ever so slightly.
“Do you know who it is?” I ask.
“Susie Welch, the second missing girl,” Grace answers quietly.
“She’s my aunt.” My words come out heavy, though I instantly feel lighter for saying them. The more people who know my story, the less burdensome it becomes. The relief encourages me to keep going, and I tell Grace my real reason for being at the lake. “I never imagined I’d end up working for the man who might be responsible for her disappearance.”
Grace is still as a stone while I reveal details about the necklace. “Oh my,” she finally says. Her expression remains grim. “David Dunne has a reputation around these parts that appears to be well-earned—and now he’s got a missing girlfriend, am I right?”
“Yes. Fiona Maxwell, the third woman to vanish from Lake Timmeny,” I say.
Taylor’s eyes darken. Looking at Grace, she asks, “If you knew the picture was in the box, why didn’t you show it to the police? They might have been able to identify David years ago.”
“Oh, trust me, I showed them the photo when I first got the box back. And the police weren’t interested. They said it looked like a bad breakup, but they were certain it was unrelated to Susie’s disappearance. Don’t ask me why; I couldn’t explain it then or now. So I put the picture back. I didn’t know what else to do with it, and it felt like it belonged where I found it. Honestly, I forgot all about it until now. It’s just… I don’t like to think about that tragedy because it reminds me of Anna—it brings me nothing but sadness.”
I pull the defaced photograph from my backpack. “Since it’s my family, I’d like to keep it, if that’s all right with you—unless the police need it.”
“That’s yours to have,” says Grace. “I get it. I have a hard time parting with Anna’s belongings.”
Shame warms my cheeks. I didn’t dig up any bones, but I mightas well have, because I’m unearthing painful skeletons—not only for me, but for Grace as well. I can barely imagine what this will do to my mother when I finally confess where I am and why. But I can’t stop now. I’ve come too far, and we’re too close to getting answers.
“Don’t you think it’s strange that a box with a secret compartment is connected to two women who went missing from the lake, but decades apart from each other?”
A shadow sweeps through the room.
“It’s more than strange,” Grace admits. “But I got an odd feeling from the police, like they knew something they weren’t telling me. It was more than a brush-off. But I didn’t know what to do about it. Honestly, I was scared.”
Taylor bites her bottom lip. “What do you mean, you were scared?” she asks.
Regret fills Grace’s eyes. She rises from her chair slowly, as if resigned to some fate. Off she goes, departing for another room, with no explanation.
Grace returns, holding a piece of blue-lined paper, the kind you’d find in a school notebook. She hands the paper to me, though I await her nod of permission before unfolding it. The paper is yellowed with age and smooth to the touch; my fingers glide across its surface. I’m filled with trepidation.
“When we were little girls, Anna and I used the box to pass secret notes to each other. It was like playing spy.” Her eyes brighten at the memory. “Eventually we outgrew the game. Boys were on my mind by that point, and evidently on Anna’s as well. The day she went missing, I checked the box on the off chance she’d left me a goodbye note. I found that inside.”
She points to the paper, which I cradle like a fragile egg.
“It’s a letter from Anna,” Grace explains. “She left it in the secret compartment, just like when we were young. I never told anybody about it. Wouldn’t even show it to the police, and you’ll see why when you read it. Anna was my older sister, my hero. Whatever she said, I did. It was as simple as that. And it was her finalwish that I honor her request and keep this to myself. I didn’t think anyone would ever see it, but I didn’t anticipate the box falling into someone else’s hands.”
“How did that happen?” I ask.
The speed at which Grace answers proves some aspects of her memory are still as sharp as ever.
“One weekend when I wasn’t around, my parents had a yard sale,” she began. “A lot of Anna’s belongings were sold off. Someone in your family must have bought the box that day. Unfortunately, your aunt must have found the hidden compartment and the letter inside, because the very thing my sister worried would happen to me, happened to her instead.
“When I bought the box back years later, I was amazed to find the letter still inside along with the photograph you discovered. As a precaution, I put the letter in a fireproof safe so nobody would ever find it again, but I’d still have it in case the time was right to share it. I guess that time is now. These secrets have been buried so long, and so many people have suffered—including you, Izzy, and your family. I don’t know if I’m putting you in danger by showing you this, but I think you should decide for yourself what to do from here.”
It feels like I’m holding a lead in Susie’s disappearance that’s so hot it could leave blisters on my fingers. I unfold the paper with extreme care. It’s dry and fragile. I worry it might tear. My eyes rake up and down the page. The handwriting, in blue ink, is feminine and near-perfect cursive. I don’t think I could even write my name with such precision, but Anna composed an entire letter that’s as easy to read as any typewritten page.
Taylor stands behind me, looking over my shoulder like a classmate who didn’t study for the test.
The paper is dated June 8, 1965, the day before Anna Olsen went missing. I read it aloud in case Grace wants to hear, though something tells me she has it memorized.
My Dearest Sister,
If you find this letter, it means I couldn’t come back for it, andit’s doubtful I ever will. There’s something I have to do, and it’s all I’ve been thinking about. The time has come for me to take action. I guess you should know some things that I’ve been keeping from you, Mom, and Dad.
First, I’m pregnant.
